Not always black and white
by theoakleafbearer
Summary: "I know that after everything I did, that I don't deserve to ask anything of you. But please James, don't die on me." When Kinch is injured on a mission, an American nurse from a near by underground unit is sent over to help. Can a friendship marred by racism ever be restored?
1. The blowing of the bridge

If Frau Günther had looked out her bedroom window that evening, and had her eyesight been just a little better, she may have seen three black shadows sneaking along the tree line, heading in the direction of the Northern Hammelburg Bridge. They may have moved a bit faster when they came across the farmhouse (to avoid detection) if they weren't laden down with dynamite, detonators, and other assorted objects that German bridges were often allergic to. As it was, they managed to move away from the farmhouse quickly enough to avoid the old German Shepard the Frau Günther kept to keep foxes out of the henhouse. The shadows crept through the trees, trying not to trip over wayward branches, and soon were hoisting themselves up onto the bridges support beams. Every stick of dynamite in place, the three slipped back behind the tree line. The shortest shadow pushed the lever down, and a gust of wind brushed against the leaves on the trees. One of the other shadows crawled back towards the bridge, only to be blasted back by the delayed explosion.

Frau Günther started awake in her armchair. Dropping her knitting to the floor, she hobbled over to the door and peeked out. Had she remembered the glasses she had hanging around her neck, she may have noticed two shadows carrying a third back in the direction they came.


	2. 1914

**So sorry about the wait! Essays come first, unfortunately. This chapter takes place in 1914, when Kinch is only six. As the story progresses, the reason why becomes apparent. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Momma, how come we had ta come all the way to Detroit?"

"I told you James, your pa got a new job"

James Kinchloe huffed. To a six year old, the move from New Orleans to Detroit was both unnecessary, and inconvenient (he and his friends had just found the perfect place for a secret hideout). He'd had to leave not just his friends, but his family, and his beloved dog 'Boxer' behind.

He was currently helping his mother unpack what little the family of seven had been able to bring with them on their 1, 064 mile pilgrimage. Their new house had two bedrooms. Momma, Pa, and the baby slept in one room, while James slept in the other, with this brother, and two sisters. Steven, 12 and muscled, bounced into the room followed by Claire and Martha.

"Momma, what's for Dinner?"

"I told ya, we ain't eating til your Pa gets home from his new job."

Tom Kinchloe had just started work at Henry Ford's factory in Highland Park.

"But he won't be home til late, and I'm already hungry. Granma, says that growing boys need to eat!"

Claire Kinchloe huffed at her son, and shooed her four children out of the room, telling them to go upstairs and finish tidying up their new room. She still Mrs. White's laundry to do.

* * *

The next day, James and Steven had been kicked out of the house for making a ruckus, and waking up little Billy twice. Steven had seen a park yesterday while he had been riding his bike on his new paper route, and was now dragging his brother towards it.

"What's the big deal about a silly old park?"

"I'll show ya when we get there. It's got a huge big climbing tree with our names on it!"

This piked James's interest, and soon the two brothers had arrived at the park. Once James saw who was picnicking on the other side though, he froze.

"Stevie, we can't go in there, it's for white folk."

"Sure we can. They're all down there, and the tree is right here. We won't be anywhere near them."

Steven had already started up the tree, so James reluctantly followed them. With his brother's help, the two of them had soon reached the top. They sat there swinging their legs, when an angry voice sounded out from below.

"Darkies! What do you think you're doing up there?!"

James looked down, and his stomach fell as he recognised the white man who had been picnicking with his family on the other side of the park.

"Well? Get down here!"

The two boys slid down the tree to stand in front of the angry man. A little girl about the same age as James peeked out from behind her father's legs.

"Now you two listen to me! This place isn't for the likes of you! You get out of here, and I don't want to see you back!"

"Yes Sir!"

Steven grabbed his brother by the hand, and they both ran for home, James waving back to the girl as they did so.


End file.
